The thrilling debut album from this intense New York City trio makes their city feel alive once again
The Singles 86>98
Go ahead and snigger: Make all the predictable, nudge-nudge remarks and let's move on....
Consequently, you've heard and probably hated all this before, because bands like Wank are generally an American phenomenon alone. The initial idea seems universal enough - four vaguely wacky-looking blokes, usually with a kerrazily named drummer (Spider) and a big bucks record deal, in this case with Madonna's Maverick label.
But, as Bush would confirm, that's as far as the plan gets over here and 'Get A Grip On Yourself' shows why. Vocalist Bobby Amodeo leers and headbangs his way through lines that show he's still chuffed at discovering swearing and hasn't learned a whole lot since. The spectacularly corny opening to 'Mickey', for instance, tells us that, "Mickey was a bad ass from Phoenix/He had a dagger with a skull on the handle". Er, right.
All this and Wank forget to put any tunes on the damn thing as well, each track surpassing the last for sub-Green Day thrashings. 'Forgiven' even has an ill-advised stab at Rancid's grating, diluted ska, while the truly terrible 'Best Friend' strikes a mock-rock pose only to fall flat on its face, meeting Spacehog on the way down.
America can keep Wank. So please guys, grow up, go away and take your crap sense of humour with you.
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